Does Time Really Heal?

Time heals all wounds.

How many times have you heard that proverb in your lifetime? How many times have you said the same to others?

I’m finding that time doesn’t heal as much as it dulls the pain and sorrow we can feel after a loved one dies.

The grief we feel when we lose a loved one can be just as cutting and painful years after the loss as it was the moment we realized our loved one was gone.

I’ve described in other writings (about the death of my oldest son) that the pain I feel is an Evan-shaped hole in my heart. I’m hoping as time moves on that it will become less of a pothole and more of a comfortable nest where I can curl up and rest.

But we don’t always have that luxury, do we?

Even when the pain is crushing, we still have to do the laundry, go to work or clean up the dirty dishes.

For those of us who are actively grieving, one of the biggest “mistakes” we make is that we grieve in private. I know how difficult it is to be vulnerable and to let friends and acquaintances know just how debilitating grief can be.

I believe we must help each other. When I can’t handle life, I depend on others who understand what I’m feeling to lift me up and push me forward. When I feel stronger, I can return the support when others need it.

I also understand that our friends can be fearful of hurting us by talking about our loved ones.
But I’m finding all I want to do is talk about my son.

I want to remember the simple things, like the way he giggled when the dogs barked.

I want to talk about how he called his grandpa TIcka-ticka-da because my dad always tickled him. 

I want to tell people about how he hummed along to the music while riding in the van. He loved listening to a Contemporary Christian radio station and would hum along to his favorites, like “How Great is Our God” and “I Can Only Imagine.”

Or how he focused on one skill at a time. When he was learning a new sound, we couldn’t even think about introducing him to sitting up by himself. His entire focus was on that new skill.

I want to remember how he teased his younger brothers by yelling and making noise while they played video games – to the point they would roll him into his bedroom and close the door hoping to contain the noise.

We need to talk about our loved ones. But our friends sometimes think it would be painful for us. They don’t want us to cry. They feel awkward if a question prompts tears.

But sometimes we HAVE to be uncomfortable.

Sometimes, learning to be comfortable in the discomfort of life is what helps us heal.

I just want people to remember Evan’s laugh, his smile, his voice, his mannerisms.

And the best way to ensure that he is remembered is to talk about him.

Time may not heal all wounds, but it can teach us how to keep moving. I’ve learned I can make it through the day without bursting into tears. That I can get out of bed every morning and actually look forward to the day.

I’ve needed these past months to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. The sorrow is still there, but I’ve learned how to function day-to-day.

That’s not to say I have this grief thing all figured out. I still get hit with it like a ton of bricks. But this life is a journey, and so is the grief process. Together we’ll be able to keep moving forward, to continue walking along this path.

Remember Dory in “Finding Nemo”? Just keep swimming.

And together we’ll ensure that our loved ones are never forgotten.

Until next time,

Susie from Stix-N-Stonez